


there's a time for us all (and I think yours has been)

by below_the_starry_clusters_bright



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Finn and Rey friendship, Gen, I laugh in the face of established timelines, Pre-TFA, hints of one-sided Reylo, no prizes for guessing which side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/below_the_starry_clusters_bright/pseuds/below_the_starry_clusters_bright
Summary: FN-2187’s instructions were clear: don’t touch anything and don’t speak to anyone.The latter wouldn’t be a problem. No one dared venture near Kylo Ren’s rooms on Starkiller Base unless they had a death wish. The muttered rumor that his décor ran along the “severed body parts” theme was probably nothing, but it seemed just plausible enough that people stayed far away.The former, though… How was FN meant to clean the room without touching anything? Never mind why Maintenance couldn’t just send in droids like they usually did. This had to be some kind of punishment, although he had no idea what he’d supposedly done. Maybe his eyeroll at Hux’s latest speech had been a little less internalized than he’d thought. If anyone could guess at what was beneath a stormtrooper’s helmet, it would be the General.FN’s confusion over the rules clears up the moment he opens the door to Ren’s rooms, only to be replaced by a new, larger wave of What The Hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The fic takes place just before the events of TFA, except Rey has already been captured by Kylo Ren (for reasons non-BB-8 related) and they’re on Starkiller Base. It’s fanfiction, darlings, just go with it. Title of the fic is from "Fuck U" by Archive (although I really recommend Placebo's cover). Hope you enjoy!

FN-2187’s instructions were clear: don’t touch anything and don’t speak to anyone.

The latter wouldn’t be a problem. No one dared venture near Kylo Ren’s rooms on Starkiller Base unless they had a death wish. The muttered rumor that his décor ran along the “severed body parts” theme was probably nothing, but it seemed _just_ plausible enough that people stayed far away.

So, yeah. No one to speak to, no way to break that rule.

The former, though… How was FN meant to clean the room without touching anything? Never mind why Maintenance couldn’t just send in droids like they usually did. This had to be some kind of punishment, although he had no idea what he’d supposedly done. Maybe his eyeroll at Hux’s latest speech had been a little less internalized than he’d thought. If anyone could guess at what was beneath a stormtrooper’s helmet, it would be the General. Or Kylo Ren, but having mystical powers was cheating.

FN’s confusion over the rules clears up the moment he opens the door to Ren’s rooms, only to be replaced by a new, larger wave of _what the hell_.

A girl – woman? It’s hard to tell – sits slumped against the far wall. Draped as she is in light colors, she stands out against the black interior. Her hands are cuffed behind her back and attached to a short chain, trapping her to the wall. She’s a wiry thing, alert to his every movement and tracking him with suspicious, gleaming eyes.

FN stops in his tracks. The maintenance cart stops with him. He dimly registers the door closing behind him.

 _Why_ is Kylo Ren keeping a girl tied up in his bedroom?

The moment the question forms, FN regrets thinking it. He doesn’t want to know, doesn’t need to know, will live out his days happily not knowing. He takes another step into the room. He’s just here to clean things and get out.

Except – this is wrong. This isn’t how the First Order treats prisoners. The girl should be locked up in a cell or strapped to an interrogation rack somewhere. Whatever her sins, she doesn’t deserve… whatever is happening here.

_(Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think –)_

“You’re not a droid.”

The girl’s voice is flat, with barely a hint of curiosity to ripple it. Even so, there’s a shrewdness to her stare that unsettles FN.

“I – no, I’m not.”

And just like that, he’s managed to screw up what was supposed to be un-screw-up-able. How kriffing hard is it to Not Touch and Not Talk? Beneath his helmet, FN closes his eyes and resists the urge to smack himself. He takes a breath and looks at the girl again. Maybe this is salvageable. If he just keeps his mouth shut, maybe no one will ever know.

The girl surveys him coolly before shrugging. The movement rattles her handcuffs.

“A shame,” she says, mostly to herself. “It means he’s paying attention, the bastard.”

FN pushes the maintenance cart further into the room and looks around. There are two doors beside the main one, probably leading to Ren’s bedroom and the fresher unit. At least the girl isn’t being restrained in the bedroom. It makes the whole thing minutely less sketchy.

“I dismantled the last two cleaning droids,” she explains in that clear-cut accent of hers, even though FN didn’t ask. “He took away the parts, otherwise I’d have kept them.”

FN tries to block her out. They’ll both be in trouble if she keeps striking up a conversation. He just wants to do his job and then… well, he’ll figure that part out later. Leaving her here and leaving with her both seem like impossible options.

“Does everyone on this ship wear a mask?”

FN doesn’t have to pretend to ignore her this time. His eyes fall on shards of broken glass lying beneath one of the shelves which line the wall closest to him. It’s too far for the girl to have reached, but Ren wouldn’t have left her alone with something she could harm herself or others with, even if she is restrained. How could she have broken something if she couldn’t even…?

Oh, _hell_.

“You’re like him,” FN says. The crackling static of his mask strips his voice of fear, for which he’s grateful. “A Force user.”

The girl stills. She glowers at him like he insulted her. “I _have_ it. I don’t _use_ it.”

FN understands. He has a blaster which he does not use. It’s an important distinction. That’ll change after his first deployment, of course, but he hasn’t yet received his orders.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks. He’s already spoken to the girl, he might as well get some answers.

“I’m in this room because I escaped from the interrogation chamber.” The girl puffs up with pride. “And then I escaped from a cell.”

“But you’re onboard in the first place because you have the Force.”

The girl shrugs again. “Would you believe I’m not being kept in the loop?”

FN moves over to the shattered glass and busies himself with picking it up. He shouldn’t feel any sympathy for this girl. Anyone with the Force who isn’t a Knight of Ren is as good as dead. Kylo Ren’s moniker might be Jedi Killer, but FN doubts he’s that discerning about which side of the Force someone falls on before he slaughters them.

The girl is as good as dead. So then why is she here, merely handcuffed after escaping twice already? She looks tired, and her clothes are less than fresh, but there’s no sign of injury on her. Even with her restraints, she’s being treated better than a normal prisoner.

“What’s your name?” the girl asks. She must sense FN’s hesitation, because her features soften. “You’re the first person I’ve talked to since I’ve been here who isn’t Kylo Ren. I won’t rat you out. Just tell me your name.”

FN pauses and then rattles off, “FN-2187.”

If the girl does tell on him, he can always say that she pulled his name out of his mind. Force users are tricky like that.

“That’s just numbers,” the girl says with a frown.

FN shrugs. “And a couple of letters.”

“Can I call you FN instead?” the girl asks. At FN’s nod, a hint of a smile works around her lips. “I’m Rey.”

Rey. It’s a pretty name. She’s a pretty girl. Whatever happened to land her in Kylo Ren’s clutches must have been some serious bad luck.

FN clears his throat and goes back to his cleaning. He can’t get involved. The girl is a prisoner of the First Order. To free her would be treason, and the best FN could hope for after that would be a swift death. In any case, Ren would catch them in five minutes flat. Whatever skill with the Force Rey has obviously wasn’t enough to keep her hidden during her last two escape attempts. And, sure, FN knows the layout of Starkiller Base, but getting himself and Rey to the hangar would be too risky. They’d need a pilot. Where would they even go? FN has spent his whole life with the First Order. He can’t just commit high treason and sail on out of there.

_No. Sorry, Rey, but no._

FN gives a cursory scan of the other rooms before deciding they look clean enough. If he stays here for too long, he’ll be tempted by more ridiculous escape plans.

“You know, I wasn’t, uh, supposed to be talking to you,” he says, positioning himself back behind the maintenance cart and not looking her in the eyes. “So if you could maybe not mention this?”

“Alright,” Rey says. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something more, but apparently reconsiders. “Will you be back?”

“Probably. Didn’t do a great job of cleaning today.”

Rey stifles a snort of amusement which soon turns into a sigh.

“Sorry, FN,” she says with what seems like genuine regret. “It’s been lovely to talk to someone who wasn’t a droid or a masked psychopath, but I need to get out of here.”

As FN looks up, Rey straightens and bores her eyes into where his are slowly widening behind his mask.

“You will remove these handcuffs,” she says, an eerie, cold quality to her tone.

FN blinks, perplexed. “Sorry, I can’t.”

A small frown creases Rey’s forehead. “You will remove these handcuffs,” she says again, with more force.

“Still can’t.”

Rey shouts in frustration and jerks forwards. “Just remove the kriffing handcuffs!”

“Okay, you yelling at me isn’t helping your case.” FN wheels the maintenance cart over to the door. He covers the keypad with one hand and types the code in with another. “Goodbye, Rey.” Then, so soft it’s almost obscured by his mask, “I’m sorry.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rey’s dozing when the door to Kylo Ren’s rooms open again. She jerks upright at the sound and then hisses softly as the movement jostles her bound hands. In the split second between the beep of admission and the door sliding open, Rey lets herself hope that FN has come back to free her. She’d sensed his discomfort at her being held here – which, good, someone on this damn base ought to have a sense of morality – and it wouldn’t surprise her if he returned.

But no. It’s Kylo Ren.

Rey sags against the wall before she remembers to be on alert. She sits as straight as she can and glares up at her masked captor. He ignores her for now. He bends down from his impossible height to lift the end table that Rey had accidentally knocked over in frustration after FN left. She’d nearly screamed when she’d realized what she’d done. Of all the times for the Force to actually work. It couldn’t help her escape but it was her number one go-to for causing mild inconvenience.

Ren doesn’t comment on its overturned state, although he turns his masked face towards her and tilts his head. Rey holds her tongue. It’s much too late to pretend she doesn’t have this weird mystical gift, but that doesn’t mean she has to acknowledge it out loud. After a long moment, Ren releases the latch mechanism on his mask and lifts it from his head.

Rey looks away as he sets it on the table. As much as she hates the mask, it’s fitting for a monster. Much more fitting than the face that lies beneath it.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” Ren says, turning to look at Rey again.

It’s a statement of fact, not a question, so Rey doesn’t reply. She’d been given water, at least. The door had opened long enough for an unseen hand to roll a canteen full of water down to her. It had veered slightly off course and she’d spent at least half an hour trying to reach it. When she’d managed it, the victory had tasted sweeter than anything else.

Had that really been yesterday? She’s a little disconcerted that so much time has passed. There were no clocks in sight, and even if the room had viewports, they’d only show a perpetual night. Rey tries to sort out the timeline in her mind. Yesterday, she’d been given food. Yesterday, she’d been chained up. Yesterday, she’d met FN-2187. Yesterday, Kylo Ren had left his rooms and not returned for twenty-four hours.

Where had he slept? Had he even slept?

“You must be hungry,” Ren continued with a slight prompt in his tone.

Rey still doesn’t speak. If Ren thinks he can starve her into submission – or whatever she’s still being kept prisoner for – then he’s got another thing coming. She’s spent the last thirteen years hungry.

Ren doesn’t react to her silence with a threat, like Rey expects. Instead, he nods to himself and moves over to the datapad by the door. With a few quick taps, he’s finished.

“There,” he says. “Hope you like water and veg-meat.”

He walks towards her and, to Rey’s panic, doesn’t stop. She presses back against the wall in instinctual fear as he drops to his knees in front of her and leans forward. It strikes Rey like never before just how _wide_ Ren is. Her heart thumps faster as he closes in on her. The second it flickers through her mind to ram her head forwards until it connects with his own, her body locks into place.

Ren produces a key from somewhere in the sea of fabric he wears and holds it up for her to see. Rey stares at it. He’s releasing her from her bounds.

“Hold still,” he says flatly, like some kind of kriffing comedian.

Rey could kill him. This the fourth time he’s frozen her in place like this. The first time, after she had tried to run from him on Jakku, had brought on a terror in her that she hadn’t felt in years. The only other times her body had refused to respond to her was when she’d been on the brink of starvation. The second and third times came during her escape attempts on Starkiller Base. Then as now, her fury had overridden her fear.

Ren leans back once the handcuffs click open. He stands and takes several wary steps back, although Rey is too busy massaging her wrists to consider an attack. Once the circulation has returned, she narrows her eyes at Ren. Why had he released her?

He returns her stare with an even look, although a hitch in his eyebrow tells Rey that he’s starting to get annoyed with her silence.

“If you’d prefer to drop face-first into your meal and eat it that way, I’m happy to oblige,” he says.

“Why go to all this trouble if you’re just going to kill me?”

Whether Ren’s surprised at Rey’s question or just that she’s speaking at all, he doesn’t say. His eyes widen, and then gleam with the intensity that’s never far from his face.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he tells her. “I’m going to train you.”

Rey forces herself to keep eye contact. “And if I don’t want that?”

“You should. You’ve seen my power.” Ren glances down at his gloved hands and then back up at Rey. “Don’t you want that for yourself?”

“I don’t want any part of this.”

Disappointment flashes across Ren’s expression before he schools it into neutrality.

“You don’t have a choice.” A moment passes before he shakes his head. “I sensed you, back on Jakku. Your power called out to me.” He lowers his voice and looks at her like she’s a marvel. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Rey looks away. She’d much rather have Ren raging the way he’d done after her second escape attempt than have him look at her as though he could unearth all her secrets if he only stared hard enough.

“What were you doing on Jakku in the first place?” Rey asks, hoping to guide him away from the topic of their strange, shared power.

Ren blinks out of his intensity and straightens up.

“We had intelligence that there was a vital piece of information there,” he says, his voice level again.

Rey scoffs. “There’s nothing vital in Niima Outpost.”

“Which is why we’ve already found our next potential location.”

Rey’s eyes dart back to his. Once Ren’s ship landed in Niima Outpost, she’d stuck around long enough to see the death and destruction Ren and the Stormtroopers had spread. She’d ran when the shock wore off and her self-preservation kicked in, but it hadn’t done much good. He’d paralyzed her before she’d reached the first speeder.

“Where?” Rey asks through a dry mouth.

Ren watches her with a shrewd glint in his eye, like he’s weighing up whether to tell her the truth.

“A small village called Tuanul,” he says after a moment.

Tuanul. Rey’s never been there, but she knows of it.

“Will you harm the villagers?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“If they resist.”

Rey closes her eyes. Jakku culls all but the resistant. No one could survive there otherwise.

“That last puzzle piece on your scrap heap of a planet will lead me to my destiny,” Ren says. There’s a new fervor in his voice. “Once I’ve conquered that destiny, I will return here and your training will begin.”

Anger sparks in Rey. Jakku is a hellhole, yes, but that doesn’t mean Ren should dismiss it as nothing more than a stepping stone on his path to domination.

And he’s so _damned_ certain that she’ll accept him as a teacher. Why? What single thing has Rey done that would convince him of that?

“Why wait?” Rey challenges, a new idea coming to her. “Start now. Tell me how I convinced the Stormtrooper in the interrogation room to let me go.”

Ren blows out a breath of almost-amusement. The look he gives her lets her know, in no uncertain terms, that he knows exactly why she’s asking and he isn’t playing along.

“Alright then,” Rey says. “New question. Why doesn’t it work on everybody?”

This, Ren is willing to answer.

“Some minds are stronger,” he says, “some are guarded, some are simply less susceptible. You’re just beginning to test your powers. Once you have practice, you can overcome –” He cuts himself off and stares at her. A line appears between his eyebrows. “You tried it on someone else.”

Rey’s heart stutters at being caught out. “No, I –”

“Yes, you did.” Ren looks at her with increasing suspicion. “On FN-2187. It had to have been him. He was the only one with access to you, since you evidently couldn’t be trusted with the Maintenance droids.”

“Picked him out of a line-up, did you?” Rey snaps. She’s sore at being found out so easily. “Did his helmet sparkle that bit brighter than the other thousands of Stormtroopers’?”

“FN-2187 was top of his class in the Academy.” Ren doesn’t sound at all impressed. “General Hux recommended him.”

Rey knows that tone of voice. It’s so disconcertingly petty that it saps some of her anger.

“You don’t like Hux much,” she observes.

Ren makes a noise that might have been amusement from anyone else. “No one likes Hux much.”

“Do they like you?”

It’s a question too far, asked before Rey really knew what she was saying. She’d just meant to keep Ren busy, keep him talking, while she figured out her next move. Now he’s drawing himself up to his full height and glaring at her with venom.

“I am Master of the Knights of Ren, apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke, Jedi Killer, and heir to Darth Vader’s legacy,” he says. “I don’t _need_ people to like me.”

“That’s a no, then.”

Ren lunges forwards. Rey scrambles to her feet, but the expected attack never comes. As she watches, Ren collects himself with harsh but steady breaths. His fists clench and unclench at his side. When he speaks, it’s in a controlled voice that’s worse than if he screamed.

“I don’t know whether FN-2187’s mind was too strong for your attempts, or too stubbornly thick. He has a touch of Force sensitivity about him, although nothing of importance. Certainly nothing compared to yours.” His eyes flick over Rey before settling back on her face. “You’re free to continue your attempts to mind trick him, although bear in mind that if by some slim chance you are successful and he tries to help you, he will be executed for treason.”

He speaks with relish, as though he’ll be the one swinging the metaphorical axe. Rey lifts her chin, afraid but defiant.

“Only if we’re caught.”

Ren’s mouth lifts in that half-smile Rey has come to hate. “You’ll be caught.”

A buzz at the door breaks the tension. Ren glances at it.

“Go wash up, your food’s here.” He strides over to the lock pad. “Can I trust you to resist the urge to disassemble the service droid for five seconds?”

Rey removes herself to the fresher rather than answer. She spends longer than necessary in there, enjoying stretching her legs and splashing her face with water. The first time she’d been allowed in here, she’d turned on the tap and watched, transfixed, as more water than she’d ever seen in one place before ran down the drain. She does the same now, feeling closer to freedom than she’s felt since being here.

Eventually, though, her hunger wins out. She washes her hands one more time – running water and soap will never not be a novelty – and makes her cautious way back into the main room. Ren holds out a tray for her. Three thick slices of veg-meat sit on a plate, next to a generously sized cup of water.

If she’d been anyone else, Rey might have turned her nose up and refused to eat what her enemy offers.

Except.

After one of her earliest scavenges, her first truly decent haul, she’d frowned at Unkar Plutt’s low estimate of what the pieces were worth. She’d asked for more, demanded more, and hadn’t eaten for three days as a result.

That starving child still lives inside Rey. She takes the offered food and stalks back to where she had been chained up. She’ll have to go back there eventually anyway, and at least this way she can pretend it’s her choice.

She settles the tray down on her outstretched legs and begins to devour her food. It’s not luxury by anyone’s standards but Rey doesn’t care. It takes her less than two minutes to clean the plate and guzzle down the water. She ignores Ren’s soft noise of disgust.

“No one to impress with table manners on Jakku, I suppose,” he mutters.

Rey sighs quietly. She’d hoped to have another few seconds to rest her stomach, but Ren’s jibe is as good a provocation as any. Her hand tightens around her empty plate. She can do this. She takes a fortifying breath, surges to her feet, and hurls the plate at Ren’s head. The plan is to dart past him while he’s dazed and then smack him over the head with his own mask. Once he’s knocked out, she’ll have enough time to override the lock and then she’ll run as fast as she can.

Reality doesn’t care that Rey has a plan. It never does.

Quicker than thought, Ren whirls around and lift his hand. The plate curves in mid-air before it can touch him and hurtles back to Rey. Her eyes widen. She isn’t fast enough to dodge it entirely; it smacks her in the arm and she cries out. She drops to the floor to grab the tray and try throwing that instead – ever the optimist – but her body stiffens before her fingers can even graze it.

Rey struggles but it’s no use. She’s held in place as Ren advances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn returns next chapter! Thank you for your comments/kudos/bookmarks :)


End file.
